


i hate to see you cry

by mulkki



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, Twincest, past speculation, pseudo-character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulkki/pseuds/mulkki
Summary: “Tenn-nii,” Riku sleepily smiles at him, voice drowsy as the medication sets in. “I’m so glad you’re here.”Tenn pats his head in turn, helping him settle back into bed. “Of course I’d be here.” He tucks an extra pillow under his head. “I’ll always be here for you, Riku.”“... Promise?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mungbean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mungbean/gifts).



No one told Tenn he’d have to be his brother’s caretaker—or at least, he doesn’t remember anyone ever needing to. Maybe he was born for this role, destined from the moment they came into existence together; maybe he was created for the position, coded into his DNA from the beginning. Or maybe Riku crying in hospitals and absent parents makes him a fast learner.

He develops his role over the years, knowing more about hospital equipment than any nine-year-old should: like what buttons do what on the heart monitor, how much jostling will unsettle an IV drip (important, because it alerts the nurses’ station), or where he can find a supply of band-aids and gauze in the ward.

He knows to slip Riku a piece of candy after the nurses come with a brown bottle, to hold his hand when they come with shots, to distract him when it’s time to change the IV needle. To sing for him when it’s hard to fall asleep, and to show him a new dance when there’s a procedure the next day. The nurses compliment his role: _what a good boy to take such good care of his brother_ , an _exemplary_ older sibling. They tell him they can tell Riku feels better when he’s around, that Riku is much easier to help when Tenn is there to keep him calm and happy. Tenn takes all of this in, praise and thanks and warm pats on his head as he politely bows out the retreating train of doctors and nurses. He sets aside the folder of notes they told him to give his parents.

“Tenn-nii,” Riku sleepily smiles at him, voice drowsy as the medication sets in. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Tenn pats his head in turn, helping him settle back into bed. “Of course I’d be here.” He tucks an extra pillow under his head. “I’ll always be here for you, Riku.”

“... Promise?”

Tenn tucks the blanket in around him. “Promise,” he replies, and he’s completely sure of it.

 

Once Riku falls asleep and he knows the nurses have retired for the night, Tenn crawls out from his cot and grabs the folder of doctor’s notes. He slips into the bathroom and, under the fluorescent lights, reads and rereads the notes on Riku’s care. He fumbles over the difficult terminology, crowds of intimidating marks on paper he doesn’t understand yet, but memorizes the few words he can follow: Be careful of dust. No exercise—or at least heavy exercise, he thinks, Tenn can only guess at some of the words. He learns to recognize ‘inhaler,’ traces the anatomy diagrams, trains himself to recognize the characters that make up Riku's prescriptions.

He’ll do it—their parents are busy working hard for Riku’s treatment, but he can be here, and this way he can always be with him _and_ know what to do.

At school he stays inside with Riku, reading science books—hoping to learn the difficult words, hoping to learn how he can help. He goes to the library more often and when he starts bringing home biology books, heavy things far above his reading level and markedly different from the books he usually checks out, his parents smile and laugh.

“What a wonderful older brother you are,” they ruffle his hair fondly. “We’re so lucky, that you’re always there for Riku.”

Tenn smiles and nods under their praise, and thinks about it the whole night as Riku coughs against his chest and their parents are away at work.  


  


* * *

  
No one told Tenn that it’d come down to this—that in the end, leaving would be the best way.

The years pass by in a blurry series, intervals marked by hospital stays and near-scares and remedial classwork. A blur of parents, doctors, nurses, teachers: all smiling at him, _good thing you’re here. How lucky we have you to help._

Riku’s voice, face, a constant presence in every memory he has: _Tenn-nii, help, Tenn-nii, can you? Tenn-nii, where are you? Tenn-nii, I don’t want to take my medicine. Tenn-nii, I don’t want to stay home._

_Tenn-nii, dance for me?_

_Tenn-nii, sing me that song again, I love it when you sing._

Tenn huffs a sharp laugh against the foggy glass outside his parents’ theater. The windows haven’t been cleaned in months, and the posters inside are already peeling. The tension within the falling-apart theater reflects outside, and Tenn thinks, it’s true what they say: perception is reality, and the run-down theater reflects the company inside.

 

(“Perception is reality,” Kujou had said to him. “The public perceived Zero as the ideal idol, and he disappeared before their perception could change. And so he remained, the perfect idol—forever and ever.” He stopped, eyes wandering over the theater until eventually making its way down to rest on Tenn. “There’s nothing to change that perception anymore, Tenn, the legend is ironclad in his myth. Perception is a mighty thing, and hard to fight against once it settles in.” He inclined a head to the slowly decaying theater behind him. “I suppose there was a kind of wisdom there, to know when to quit while you’re ahead.”

There was a slight waver in his voice then, like he wanted to say more, but Tenn must’ve imagined it. Kujou started speaking again, voice heavy and smooth as ever.

“In this world, the strong aren’t the ones with ‘more’, per se. It’s those who have sway over the people’s perception. Sure, there are monsters out there who warp others’ perception to match theirs, but you? You have the rare talent, Tenn, to carry through any image people might want to see; I can tell. The talent to create a… pleasing perception, and the matching dedication to maintain it.” He was closer now, and Tenn fought down the brief urge to run. “You have it, and that’s what’s going to take you beyond Zero.”

“Didn’t you just say Zero was ironclad? People love him and, like you said, his ‘perception’ is intact.”

“Not to everyone,” he replied. “And even legends fade with time, Tenn.”

“So what do you plan to do?” Tenn gestured to the theater behind him. “You said you’d shoulder on our debt, but I know it’s big. Bigger than anything as short-lived as an idol project, at any rate. You wouldn’t offer me this if you didn’t have something bigger planned than mere entertainment. How do you plan on using me to surpass Zero?” _And is it even worth doing, to overcome a nationally-beloved dream?_ He kept that to himself.

Kujou’s lips curled ever so slightly. “First, Tenn, what perception do you think you give off right now? Knowing that, you should have seen the real effects your so-called ‘mere entertainment’ has had on others.”

Tenn crossed his arms as he tried not to let it show on his face—but the voices in his memories, parents and teachers and nurses and _Riku_ , all echoed the same thing: _What a good older brother; we’re so glad you’re here to care for Riku. Thank goodness you’re here, we didn’t know what to do without you. What a good responsible caretaker to your little brother._

 _...Tenn-nii,_ Riku grins at him, holding hands out for Tenn to fill with his own. Waiting with obvious expectation.

Tenn lifted his head and met Kujou's eyes with the utmost calm he could muster. “At any rate, you’re here because you saw something in me that you could use. Am I wrong?”

“You’re not,” Kujou laughed, and pulled out a business card. “Call me when you’re ready, Tenn. There are stages waiting for you—ah, well, I suppose your parents’ theater is waiting for you to rescue them, in a way. But I mean, there are bigger stages out in the world waiting for you.” He straightened and walked away, casually adding: “along with your brother’s hospital.”)

 

It takes Tenn less than a week of deliberation to call him back, and true to their agreement he packs his bag and waits for him where they’d met a week ago. Bold of Kujou, he thinks, to arrange his parents’ theater—their bargaining chip—as the meeting spot. Of course Tenn hadn’t told them any of this: of when and where he'd leave, or that he was leaving at all. Of course they’d know why, though—maybe they even hoped for this to happen, that Tenn would make the choice for them and become the one to dig them all out of this hole that they were too afraid to.

“Ready?” Kujou asks once he arrives, immaculate in his deceptively simple appearance.

“Has the debt been transferred?”

“Your parents should receive a notice within two business days, if not tomorrow.” Kujou inclines his head to Tenn. “Of course, I can have them send you a courtesy copy, too. For your own records.”

“And Riku’s treatment?”

“The hospital has been notified and the billing has already been set up. I’ve even taken the liberty to schedule his appointments through the next year; he shouldn’t have any gaps in treatment this way.”

There’s nothing more to ask, so Tenn pushes away from the fogged glass to stand on his own.

It’s funny, he thinks as he walks away. Years of dealing with hospitals, school, and even Riku all by himself—nursing him, comforting him, protecting him, singing and dancing for him—yet the simple act of leaving was about to do more than all those years put together.

He steps into Kujou’s car. He doesn’t laugh at all, but he doesn’t cry, either. It’s for the best, after all, their parents will be saved from financial ruin and Riku will be taken care of in the way most helpful for him. It won’t be pleasant, he concedes, as the twinge in his heart grows painful until he can’t ignore it. But it _is_ necessary for him— _them_ —to grow, a sensible side of him tries to convince himself.

He watches the theater shrink in the distance. No one else is willing to do what’s needed, so Tenn will.


	2. Chapter 2

No one would believe Iori if he told anyone. He wouldn’t have believed it himself either, frankly speaking—who would, at any rate, even if he were to record and tweet footage of the current situation in this heated rehearsal room? Honestly, he doesn’t even believe what he’s seeing right now.

“Riku, are you even taking this seriously?" Tenn snaps, "I don’t know what’s more appalling, your lack of practice or the fact that I have to tell you this constantly.”

“I’m—” Riku pauses, sinking down with hands on his knees as he pants, and Iori and Tenn _both_ flinch and reach for him at the exact same time. Neither reflex is lost on them, and Iori meets cool eyes with his own level gaze. “—Fine,” Riku continues, looking up between them, completely unaware of the sparks flying over his head. He looks to Tenn first, of course. “Just, just give me a moment. I’ve _almost_ got it down! Why can’t you just trust me to pull it off eventually?”

Iori clears his throat, cutting off the scolding he knows is about to come from Tenn. “Nanase-san, maybe you should try bouncing less on your heels at that measure and brace yourself to move forward a bit earlier? I think that’s causing the delay.”

Riku tests the movement, and to his surprise finds it works. “Iori! You’re right!” He breaks into a grin at him, and for a moment, Iori wonders if there’s anything else he can say at that could also help, what else could he possibly do to keep Riku looking at— _getting the rest of the routine down,_ he tells himself. He snaps out of it when Riku turns around to Tenn. “See, Tenn-nii? I can do it after all! At least Iori can be nice and teach me!”

Tenn eyes Iori up and down. “Hmm. Your own dancing looks like that, and yet you somehow find the time to help others. Are you sure you have the leisure to be giving advice?” His gaze sharpens. “Focus on yourself before you try and help others.” He turns to Riku, still deadpan. “And you—is this any way for an idol to be? Don’t rely on _others_ like that.” He turns back to the mirror. “Come on, we still have the rest of the choreography to run through. And we’ve had enough breaks.”

  


* * *

  


“Ugh, did you hear him?” Riku plops down on the bench—on their next break, barely twenty minutes later. The angry energy doesn’t hide the flutter in his breath as he huffs, and immediately Iori realizes why Tenn cut their rehearsal for yet _another_ break. Irritation follows after that: the fact Tenn caught it earlier and he didn’t, and as he runs through his memory of the last twenty minutes Riku charges on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Tenn-nii is always like that, so controlling and _super_ critical. ‘Better if you don’t,’ he always says. It’s always ‘No, Riku,’ or ‘you can’t, Riku’.”

“Nanase-san, breathe.”

“I _am_ breathing!” Riku huffs again, and Iori immediately forces a water bottle into his hands. “Geez, Iori, you’re just like him sometimes.”

Iori stiffens. “Please don’t.”

Riku laughs at him as he opens the bottle. “Hmm, yeah, I guess other than always scolding me and telling me what to do, you’re not all that similar.” He takes a sip. “But then again, no one is like Tenn-nii.”

Iori stays silent, drinking his own water.

“Tenn-nii…” Riku sighs, continuing without needing Iori to prompt him. “I get it, I mean, he can say stuff like that because he’s so good, you know? He’s perfect at everything, from singing to dancing to everything else. He’s always been super amazing like that, Iori, you saw him too, right? Even in rehearsal we were doing the same moves but Tenn-nii was perfect at dancing them already, not to mention he looks extra cool, I felt like I could see the whole outfit and stage around him already. It really fits him, huh? The angel theme?”

Iori raises an eyebrow. “An angel… despite how he acts like, well.” He coughs delicately. “ _That_?”

Riku sharply wheels around to face him, and Iori silently thanks his arm for not dropping his water bottle at how close he gets. “What are you talking about, Iori? Tenn-nii _is_ an angel!”

“He...” Iori squints. “He just scolded you during rehearsal five minutes ago.” _And that’s not even including everything else he's done tonight, and not just towards you!_

“But still!” Riku pouts, puppy-like in his insistence, and Iori fights the creeping warmth rising in his face. “I mean, have you seen him?”

_Yes, I have. I just spent all of rehearsal with the both of you,_ Iori wants to snip back. He’s also seen last week’s am*am shoot, and no angel would make a face like that with just lipstick. _The real angel here is you_ , he wants to shake him. _You can’t even figure out how to pose in gravure without being guided!_

“Just look at him perform, Iori, like _really_ look! Then I’m sure you’ll see what I mean.” Riku's eyes light up. “Oh! We should marathon TRIGGER’s lives sometime! I have all the DVDs, and even if I happen to be missing anything we could probably ask Sougo-san. Actually, he might have a more complete collection, we should definitely watch it with him! Iori,” he latches onto his sleeve, and for the second time in the past few minutes Iori thanks his self-restraint for not dropping the water bottle. “Keep your nights free, okay? I gotta check with Sougo-san on when’s a good time for all of us.”

Iori sighs and gently plucks his hand off his sleeve. “You really like him, don’t you, Nanase-san?”

His heart crumples a little when Riku smiles at someone not there, at both the warmth and sadness of it. “Of course I do, Iori. I love Tenn-nii.”

“You both… really love each other a lot,” he sighs, and tries to feel better about the way he lights up at _both_.

  


* * *

  


“You spoil him.”

Iori glances up from fishing a towel out of his bag. “So do you,” he dares to shoot back, only because Riku has long been gone after offering to get them drinks. He estimates they’ll be waiting for at least 20 minutes, accounting for the time he’ll spend taking the wrong turn, and the time he’ll spend wondering what to get them after realizing he ran out without asking what they wanted.

Tenn dabs at his face with a towel, dainty and neat, and _ah_ , Iori thinks, of course TRIGGER would have the ability to make even sweat and jerseys look good. Tenn peers at him half hidden behind the towel, looking nothing like Riku. “Oh? And what would make you say that?”

“There’s plenty, but most notably from today, I'd say the most telling points were when you kept taking breaks despite clearly not needing them—you can perform live for two hours after an all-day rehearsal and still stand to answer questions and take interviews, not to mention wave to fans.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Tenn smiles at him, and for a moment Iori almost thinks he does see an angel. Then he remembers Riku’s words earlier, and shakes his head at being so easily influenced.

“Anyways,” Iori clears his throat. “It was just an observation. The other points are a toss-up between the sheer number of extra water bottles you brought along, the face masks you’ve shoved in Nanase-san’s jacket pocket at the end of every practice so far, and the numerous times you have asked him about his medicine.” _Which_ I _have on hand, at all times, and of which I have notified_ you _, countless times._

Tenn glances back at him in that lofty idol way he’s perfected. “I’m looking out for him,” he replies, detached like he’s explaining something to a particularly dim student. “Simple as that. Anyone with half a brain can see Riku needs the help.” He looks Iori square in the eye. “I’m clearly the best person for that role.”

Iori catches the attack and counters in turn. “Are you sure about that? Because for the past year or so I— _we’ve_ been the ones helping him. And a long time has passed since you left him, hasn’t it? I’m sure things have changed since then.”

He doesn’t know what he expected—maybe he wanted to see impenetrable idol, Kujou Tenn, crack. Maybe he expected him to lash out at him. Or maybe he expected him to maintain that ironclad persona and insult him in turn, never slipping that he, too, was human.

He does neither. Instead he continues cleaning up and packing his bag, and when he speaks his voice is as calm as if they’re discussing the weather.

“You think I don’t know that?”

Iori blinks.

“Of course I know he’s changed.” He tucks away his towel and zips up his bag. “I knew him best before, of course I’d notice all the differences.” He smiles at Iori as he walks out, somehow both hiding behind it and provoking him with it. _The kind of smile Nanase-san could never make,_ he thinks, as heat rises in his cheeks while dread creeps into his chest. “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is what you do about it, and,” Tenn pauses to fix a look on Iori, and the familiarity is startling—it’s the kind of determination Riku shows, and Iori is unconsciously drawn in. “It won’t change that I’m still the best person to take care of him.”

Iori stands there as he walks out, dazed as Tenn’s soft and warm _(warm? Warm?!)_ voice sternly warns Riku, who’s finally found his way back, to stay warm and get a proper amount of rest.

Iori stares daggers at the practice room door as his footsteps fade away. _I tell him that, even without you around._


	3. Chapter 3

_Of course I know he’s changed,_ Tenn snipes to someone who isn’t even there, the thought compelling him to press his lips to Riku’s forehead. _But I’m here now._ I’m _here, and you aren’t._

“Tenn-nii?”

Riku looks up at him and Tenn’s irritation melts at the familiar sight. “What is it?” He smooths his voice to be gentle, chasing away the prior irritation. He’s here for Riku now.

Riku shakes his head and buries his face in the crook of his shoulder, breathing deeply. “It’s been a while, and. And I missed you, that’s all.” He feels bitten lips rise to meet his cheek, a clumsy cover for the question he must have wanted to ask next but couldn’t bring himself to.

It’s okay, Tenn understands. “I missed you, too,” he replies, cupping Riku’s cheek, bringing him face to face. He presses their lips together, a mark of honesty he hopes will reach him. He breaks away, and he feels light eyelashes try to follow.

“R-really?”

“Really.” He smiles down at him—of course he missed him. He should know how much he missed him. He traces shapes along Riku’s cheek, smiling all the while.

Riku pushes himself forward, his mouth eagerly catching Tenn's lips in a messy kiss, and the two tumble back into the sheets. Tenn catches him and supports him with his body, hands at Riku’s hips to hold him steady. When Riku breaks away he clings tight to Tenn, and he buries his face into his chest like he did when they were kids. “I missed you a lot, you know,” comes from his trembling, muffled voice.

“I know,” Tenn pats Riku’s head, smoothes a hand down his back. “But I’m here now.” He strokes his back as Riku sinks comfortably onto his body.

Riku’s hand clings tight to Tenn’s shirt. “Don’t leave again.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

Tenn’s hand hesitates mid-stroke, and regrets not having better control of himself as soon as Riku lifts his head up. He smoothly transitions the action into slipping his hand under Riku’s chin, tilting his head up into a kiss. He puts more into it this time, tongue slipping in between surprised lips as an open invitation while his arms wind around Riku’s waist to draw him in tight. Riku’s mouth eagerly chases the invite, tongue greedily lapping at his, and soon his sloppy kisses wander everywhere—along Tenn’s jawline, down his throat, by his collarbones. His fingers sneak up to Tenn’s neckline, fidgeting with a button.

“Please?” is all Riku needs to ask, and is all it takes for Tenn to sit up, best he can under Riku’s weight, and undo the buttons one by one. Once that’s done, he gently tugs Riku’s shirt up over his shoulders too, stifling a chuckle as Riku’s arms obediently raise themselves to help Tenn undress him; he rewards him with a kiss as soon as the shirt is out of the way. _Leave it all to your Tenn-nii_ , he says with kisses planted into his lips, cheeks, down his chest. He takes his time exploring and light, breathy moans and whimpers come from Riku as he squirms.

It takes more strength to hold him up now, as he shifts to accommodate Riku’s weight. His limbs have grown longer, as his lips trail kisses down his arms to his fingertips. There’s an unfamiliar solidity to his muscles, he’s longer and leaner, but the quickening pulse of his heart when Tenn flicks his tongue along a nipple is the same. So is the way his blush creeps down to his neck, and Tenn traces the developing blush with his lips.

“T-Tenn-nii…” Riku whimpers, trembling under Tenn’s grasp. “I-I…”

Riku doesn’t have to tell him; Tenn knows what he needs.

He works his way down, gently placating Riku with kisses as he shifts Riku to rest comfortably on the sheets. He tugs his pants enough to free his already half-hard cock with one hand, soothing him with gentle strokes along his hip with the other. Tenn splays a hand against a thigh, then thinks better of it and braces it against the bedsheets as he lowers himself, hovering above Riku, making sure he doesn’t crush him. It’s not comfortable, but it’ll do. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear, then bobs down to take Riku into his mouth.

Riku gasps at the sudden sensation. It’s too much after the light, barely-there touches, and he jerks his hips forward, pressing deeper into Tenn’s mouth. Tenn has to hold Riku down by his hips but doesn’t push back, instead readjusting himself over Riku and opening his mouth and throat up to let him press in deeper. Tenn fights his gag reflex to accommodate the intrusion, and turns so his nose is no longer pressed down against his body. He breathes and relaxes as much as he can and sends a tentative hand to stroke Riku’s thigh at the same time, hoping it’ll calm his brother down as Tenn starts to move.

He runs his tongue along the base of Riku’s cock as he lifts his head up to stop at the head, swirling around the tip, and comes off with a pop. Riku shudders through it all and lets out a whine when the warmth of Tenn’s mouth leaves him, and Tenn, who is he to refuse? Without taking the breath he came up for, he sinks back down onto Riku.

“Tenn-nii,” he breathes out in between the gasps. “Please,” he pants.

Tenn wants to brush fingers along Riku’s lips, reach up to wipe away his tears. “Just let me take care of you,” he’d say, if his mouth weren’t full with his cock. He mumbles without thinking and the vibrations send Riku’s back arching, and Tenn feels the tension taut in his brother's thighs. He’s about to come up again when a hand reaches down, trembling fingers tangling in his hair.

“Tenn-nii,” Riku’s voice cries out from above him, and Tenn reaches up to pull the hand down to tangle deeper, hold his head harder. _I’m here_ , he wants to say. Riku’s hips lurch again but this time Tenn is better prepared for it, and he lets Riku hold him down and fuck his mouth as he relaxes his throat and lets him pound into it.

It’s hard to breathe, and Tenn's arms are trembling from holding up his weight, and the hand in his hair has started to pull. He won’t be in any shape for rehearsal tomorrow morning; his throat will be a mess. It all coalesces into a painful, darkening haze that Tenn almost succumbs to, and he has to fight the urge to wrench away. But he could never, not to Riku—instead he steals breaths of air where he can, when Riku’s movements get sloppy and he isn’t pushed down as far as he can go.

That hasn’t changed either, Tenn thinks with some degree of satisfaction. Riku's always been clumsy in a way, but it’s nothing he isn’t used to dealing with.

His hips lurch one last time as Riku comes with a shout, still buried in Tenn’s mouth, and Tenn doesn’t hesitate to hold him down and let him release, swallowing it all without a second thought. Riku is still reeling from it all, back arched and limbs splayed as he doesn’t notice Tenn lick him clean, barely registers Tenn smoothing his hair out of his face.

He’s happily spent, Tenn can tell from the dazed look and quieting breathing. “Tenn-nii…” he starts, weakly lifting a hand.

Tenn lifts himself up on sore arms and takes Riku's hand in his own. “I’m here, Riku. I’m here.”

He smiles sleepily, eyes already half-closed. “I’m glad. This isn’t a dream, right…?”

Tenn weaves their fingers together. “No, it isn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry this turned out mostly tenn and more sad feels than i thought it'd be, but anyways, happy holidays and thank you for the fun prompts! your letter gave me a lot of feels and inspired me to write this pair for the first time, i had a lot of fun bouncing ideas around and writing them. i hope you enjoy and also have a wonderful holiday season!


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